Los Angeles: Tiffany Darwish Fans

Graffiti, an ice pick, an SVU. What do all these things have in common? If not the film Basic Instinct, then surely Madonna. Such were the instruments of terror a fan used to convey his appreciation for Madonna’s music last September, when he parked outside her New York apartment spray-painting messages of love on street signs and begging her to be with him. It’s a tempting offer, but considering the fact that (brace yourself to feel old) Madonna’s pushing mid-50s he might want to invest in a younger pop star. I hear Rebecca Black is single and might turn 18 this decade.

One would think it takes a supernova of a performer to launch fans as monomaniacal and strange as to be pegged as subjects for a documentary. But it doesn’t. At least, not in the case of Tiffany Darwish and I Think We’re Alone Now, the film that documents her borderline stalker fans, each of which has their own shrine, and each of which has delusions that Tiffany is their destined mate. As sad as all of these other fan devotions are, it takes special kind of delusion to be obsessed with a celebrity who literally has a “Career Stall” category on Wikipedia.